ottom, an' they say his back crooked a kneelin' down ter see the cod,
afore settin' the traps."

"What kind of traps?" I asked her.

"Them as is big nets leadin' inter a pocket where the cod gets jest shut
in," she informed me.

"Wasn't it horrid to go on such a long trip and stay on a boat so long?"
I enquired.

"Sure, but we mostly gets landed there. They has shacks or little houses,
an' flakes built up, in some places."

"It must be very disagreeable," I said.

"Laws, ma'am. They is allers some hard things about workin' the best one
knows how ter make a livin' an' help one's folks. The worst of it was
havin' no other wimmin folks ter talk to."

"Do you mean that you were alone with the crew?"

"Sure, ma'am. They wouldn't have no use fer a lot o' wimmin. They was a
chap once as wanted ter kiss me an' I hove th' back of me fist ter his
jaw, most shockin' hard. It give me sore knuckles, too, but I reckon a
girl kin allers take care of herself an' she has a mind ter."

I looked at her vigorous shoulders and was disposed to agree with her
statement. It is a splendid thing, Aunt Jennie, for girls to be strong
and sturdy enough to help themselves, sometimes, as well as to help
others. I have a notion that it is a good thing that the day is passing
away of the girls of the fainting sort who were brought up to backboards
and mincing manners. That girl has self-reliance and willingness stamped
all over her, and it is good to see.

The men were going well. At first I had been surprised at the slowness of
their gait, but I soon realized that they could keep it up all day, in
spite of their loads. Yet once an hour they stopped for a breathing spell
of a few minutes, during which they wiped their foreheads and sometimes
had a pull at their pipes. We no longer had any view of the sea. Below us
and to one side, Sweetapple River was brawling over rapids, resting in
pools, or riffling over shallows. It wound its way through a little
wooded valley, fairly well grown with small spruces and firs whose somber
greens were often relieved by the cheery, lighter hue of birches. The
junipers, as they call tamaracks in Newfoundland, were beginning to shed
their yellowing needles, and many of them were quite bare, or else dead,
with gnarled limbs fantastically twisted.

Several times we put up ptarmigans, that flew away with the curious
"brek-kek-kex" that is their rallying cry, showing white spots on their
dull-hued plumage, which